


John Has A Lot of Explaining To Do

by haru8



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, FIx It, John is not a good friend, Season/Series 04, guilt/remorse, post Culverton Smith case
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-11-23 15:18:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11405106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haru8/pseuds/haru8
Summary: John is still coming to sit with Sherlock at Baker Street after he is released from the hospital. Sherlock doesn't understand why he's still there. Things come to a head and they finally have it out. How things should have gone after the Culverton Smith case in my opinion.





	1. Chapter 1

John was still furious with Sherlock. He realized that part of Sherlock’s behavior was his fault. So he felt it was his responsibility to see Sherlock through the withdraws and cravings. However Sherlock remained quiet and standoffish whenever he came to the flat. He supposed he couldn’t be blamed for that but it still irked him. He was just so subdued! That wasn’t Sherlock. That wasn’t the man he knew!  
At the moment they were sat in their arm chairs, well the arm chairs in SHERLOCK’S flat one of which USED to be his, next to the fire. John too stiff and Sherlock fidgety and awkward. As he sat there Sherlock found himself wondering why John was here, why he kept coming? He was clearly still angry with him and didn’t really want to be there.  
It hurt. But what hurt even more was the things John had done since Mary. What happened in that morgue and John abandoning him in the hospital afterwards. He had truly believed he was about to die, that John had completely abandoned him. John had BEAT him, kicked him when he was down! He would never have fathomed that level of cruelty from John, his John. But perhaps he should have done given John’s reaction upon his return. The thought that but for a coincidence of fate allowing John to happen to find the video Mary sent him he’d be dead now sent an achingly, cold feeling into the pit of his stomach nearly crippling him. He was desperate to ask John why but he feared the answer just as much. He could barely stand to be in John’s presence but he bore it as best as he could.  
Several more days went by like this before Sherlock finally broke, “John”. The soldier looked up from making tea, “What Sherlcok?”. He wore a scowl as he turned to him. Sherlock sent an angry glare right back. He spoke with more bite than he had originally intended, “Why are you here?! Why do you keep coming? You clearly don’t want to be here! I can see that John.” John jerked and said in a voice slightly above his normal pitch, “What?”.  
“I don’t like to repeat myself John. You know this. You clearly heard me.” He stood gob smacked for a few moments then, “I would have thought that was obvious”. There was a slight question in John’s voice when he spoke. Hearing this caused Sherlock to become furious so quickly it shocked even him! He sprang up from his chair and stalked towards John. “NO! Of course it isn’t obvious John! You have refused to acknowledge my existence for WEEKS! No that’s not quite right. You did have Molly deliver that LOVELY letter.”, he shouted the last with a sneer. During his speech he had gotten more and more into John’s space. Now he was right in his face when he said “YOU BEAT ME JOHN! And badly enough that I had to be hospitalized, in fact!”. He flung himself away from John and stalked back towards the window. John sat wide eyed rooted to his chair. “Sher–Sherlock….” he started but his voiced died away. What could he say? His friend, could he even still call him that? He didn’t know at this point. But, yes, SHERLOCK was right.  
There was one thing he knew for sure, just one thing. He HAD to fix this! He had to! Clearing his throat he tried again. He moved towards Sherlock then thought better of it. “Sherlock.” A pause. “Listen….” At this point Sherlock turned to face him. He still looked quite upset, furious even. It stole John’s breath for a moment. He had never seen that level of anger from Sherlock before let alone having it focused on him. It took him another moment to steel his nerves again to speak. When he did it was soft and beseeching. “You have every right to be upset. You SHOULD be angry really! I’m surprised it’s been so long in coming if I’m honest. I’ve been a terrible friend to you. I know that. I……I’ve”. He couldn’t look at the detective anymore. It hurt to much. He could see that Sherlock was keeping his face deliberately blank. Casting his eyes to the rug beneath his feet he went on. “I’ve hurt you. I knew that, I think but I didn’t truly realize. Not until now. And….and I’m sorry for that. More than. There’s no excuse for how I treated you really. I won’t even try to defend it. But Sherlock, I want to fix this! I want to make things right!” Sherlock speared him with his gaze then. “Do you? Or is this another misguided attempt to assuage your guilty conscience? Like coming to sit with me here has been?” He said all this in a hard, cold voice.


	2. The Walls Come Tumbling Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the rest of their discuss(fight) and it's immediate aftermath

John was at a loss. That last comment has pierced him right through the heart. He tried to speak but had no idea what to say. “S….Sher—“ he started but the man in question cut him off. “No John. I think you’ve said quite enough. I think it’s time you left, actually. I’m perfectly fine without you.” John tried to interrupt here, say that he knew Sherlock was fine that it wasn’t about that, but he wasn’t given a chance. Sherlock plowed on “Come to that, you don’t need to come back at all. I’m not a child. I don’t need to be babysat. Besides I’m past the critical relapse stage anyway. So your visits have been superfluous for over a week now on that score. I will not be subject to your pity any longer John. Now kindly get out of my flat.”  
John had no choice but to comply though he was reeling from what he had just learned and desperately wanted to stay. As he turned to walk down the stairs, Sherlock stood in the sitting room of 221B with his hands held behind his back and a cold, blank look on his face watching him go. John looked back in hopes of seeing some sign of regret or sadness, some sign that John’s leaving affected him too but all he saw was that cold, blank stare. That truly drove home the point of all the damage he had caused. That he very well may have ruined the best friendship he had ever had.  
He got in his(and Mary’s) car and drove back to his flat in the suburbs in a fog. He felt numb, dejected. He didn’t know what he was going to do now. He truly had thought Sherlock and he had moved past things and were making progress toward a new start. He now realizes how unfair and presumptive that was of him but he can’t change his actions now, much as he wishes he could. He can’t fathom now, in this moment, how he was so cruel to Sherlock in the 1st place let alone how he justified not making amends or apologizing to himself up til now. He drives round to Molly’s to pick up Rosie for the evening. He’d intended to take her with him tomorrow to visit Sherlock as a nice surprise but that’s out of the question now. A thought occurred to him then. Would Sherlock even want to see Rosie? Does he even want to remain her Godfather? And what if he doesn’t? The possibility made his gasp and his breath hitch. His eyes stung and he had to blink to clear his vision in the aftermath of such a thought.  
Back in Baker Street Sherlock had closed the curtains after watching John get into Mary’s car. He took out his violin though he wasn’t sure what he intended to play. He ended up standing in the middle of the sitting room, violin in hand poised to play for several long moments before dropping his arms to his side and collapsing into his chair. The magnitude of what had just happened hitting him full force. What did I just do? I……I sent…..I sent John away. John Watson. I sent him away. Will he be back? No. I told him not to return……Do I want him to return?.....I don’t know. I hate not knowing! His thoughts were a confused jumble as were his emotions if he were honest with himself. He threw his head back onto the chair and let out a ragged breath. Now what? As if in answer to his internal question he heard the sounds of Mrs. Hudson bringing up tea.


End file.
